


a usual encounter

by tameable



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: M/M, Not Beta Read, Oral Fixation, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, blitzy is a big boy, its all hothead babey!!, kinda hrjksd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:00:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23527285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tameable/pseuds/tameable
Summary: Blitzwing comes by to partake in his semi-regular railing of Starscream.
Relationships: Blitzwing/Starscream (Transformers)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 43





	a usual encounter

**Author's Note:**

> written for @vosiian on tumblr uwu lov u bro
> 
> i cant believe i willingly fuelled the thirst for hothead, but here we are. pretend they have semi-regular hookups uhh.. sometime after starscream goes sparkless :^)

When Blitzwing strides into the little cave Starscream had carved out for himself, it’s with a cool, disdainful look and the heavy, rock-shaking thump of his pedes. He’s tall enough to touch the ceiling if only he were to reach for it. The flare of his wings blocks nearly all the light from the jagged entrance.

“What have we here?” he sneers. “An attention seeker just waiting for some spike, hm? Even without a spark, you still crave contact…”

Starscream is already reclined and propped on his elbows, anticipating this visit. His entire helm lolls with how hard he rolls his optics. “That’s your idea of dirty talk? I’ve already got my legs open.”

_ “Shut it!” _ Blitzwing growls, faceplates spinning into red.

Starscream smirks, bending one knee to further expose his modesty panel. Behind it, his valve is still wet and swollen from his very enjoyable solo session earlier.

“Make me,” Starscream says, chin up and optics blazing. Blitzwing’s large fists curl and flex as he tromps closer.

Starscream loves how predictable Blitzwing is.

A large servo moves to pin a wing. Starscream stops Blitzwing’s movements full-stop with a thruster to the chest. He digs it in harder than necessary. It mars the pretty purple deceptibrand Blitzwing worked  _ so hard _ for.

And as a bonus, the brief flash of blue on his faceplates is once again turned red. Starscream’s smirk widens into a fanged grin.

The angry vibration of Blitzwing’s double engines strikes all the way up Starscream’s leg. With more restraint than Starscream thought possible of him– especially with how awful his scowl has become, baring his dentae– Blitzwing grips Starscream by the ankle and bends him in half, knees to pauldrons. Cables creak with the pressure. Starscream draws a sharp intake through his vents.

Large purple wings flutter happily on Blitzwing’s back. Starscream welcomes the brief coolness offered by their buffeting. His own vents and cooling fans simply won’t cut it during these encounters.

Especially as Blitzwing curls in close, occupying the ample space between Starscream’s smooth, white thighs.

“Why is it that every time we do this, you get more insufferable?” Blitzwing asks, harsh and cutting and terribly distracting. The words pass through one audial and out the other.

Starscream can’t help it, what with the way Blitzwing’s full lips shape his words. His teeth scrape over his lip when saying  _ ‘why’ _ and expose the gap in his dentae on his accusatory  _ ‘you.’ _ If a recording existed that was just hours of Blitzwing’s mouth, Starscream would never get anything finished.

Well, except for one thing. He pointedly rubs against Blitzwing’s thigh where it’s shoved against his panel. Lubricant gathers as anticipation sets Starscream’s energon thrumming.

They work up a rhythm like that, enjoying a slower grind than they usually go for in their frantic encounters. 

Blitzwing buries his helm in Starscream’s collar assembly, the perfect place to bite and suck at the sensitive cables there. The heat generated and trapped between them is enough to leave them dripping coolant.

A soft whirring sound comes from right next to Starscream’s audial. He knits his optical ridges. He holds no desire to deal with Icy or Random right now.

One leg wraps firmly around Blitzwing’s waist. One clawed blue servo digs into the back of Blitzwing’s helm and wrenches him away from Starscream’s neck.

Even as Icy’s smooth faceplates are revealed, Blitzwing snarls at the claws pricking his helm. The snarl carries over easily from one set of faceplates into the next.

Blitzwing knocks Starscream’s claws away.

“Claw me like that again and I’ll make sure you’re a smear under my pede, seeker.” His faceplates go black. “And peel you up like a- a lemon! Haha!”

“Oh,  _ really _ now?” Starscream does-and-doesn’t ask. It’s barely been a minute, and yet… he wants his Hothead back.

He tilts his helm, considering. His leg still wrapped around Blitzwing’s waist, Blitzwing’s servos caging him in on either side of his helm. Starscream arches his back and smirks. He settles back flat to the stone below him with a small flex of his wings.

Blitzwing notices, of course. “What do you think are you d-”

Starscream darts out his servos and latches onto Blitzwing’s wrists. He pulls them enough to destabilize his larger partner, then uses the leverage of his leg around Blitzwing’s waist to roll them over. Blitzwing’s own weight works against him as his back hits stone and their positions flip.

Starscream sits victoriously on Blitzwing’s lap, looking down at Hothead. That pretty mouth opens to no doubt spout something else insulting.

Instead of any words, all that comes out is an outraged “Mm!” as Starscream places a sharpened digit to his lips.

“Always telling  _ me _ to pipe down. It’s about time our positions were reversed.”

Blitzwing squeezes slim hips. Starscream lifts the digit and deigns to let his furious triple-changer speak.

“That’s because,” he starts, vocalizer struggling to stay at a volume even a stone’s throw from polite,  _ “You _ sound like shredded durasteel fragged a-”

Starscream hastily shoves his digit against his mouth. Blitzwing, vindictive, licks it.

“Augh! You’re so…” Well… nasty, yes, but also more arousing than Starscream would like to admit. The warmth in his interface array suddenly makes itself known again.

“Spit it out, glitch head!”

In lieu of an answer, Starscream runs a claw delicately across Blitzwing’s bottom lip plate. Blitzwing’s optics are wide behind his red visor.

They narrow in anger when Starscream hooks three digits into Blitzwing’s mouth, feeling the shape of his glossa. Oral lubricant builds and drips as that glossa runs over perfectly filed claws.

“Back to business, yes?” Starscream says, smug.

The cogs in Blitzwing’s jaw work as he barely holds back from biting Starscream’s servo clean off. Triumph is sweet, indeed.

Almost as if to spite Starscream, Blitzwing thrusts up, hard enough to leave tan paint on Starscream’s pristine red. Heat ignites in Starscream’s circuits, a fresh gush of lubricant enough to leak past his modesty panel.

_ Slag  _ the slow bump and grind of earlier. Starscream wants to be spiked  _ now. _

Dual hisses of panels retracting meet their audials, accompanied by the whine of a pressurizing spike. Blitzwing is obviously on the same datapad.

Starscream wiggles his hips and positions himself teasingly over the head, drooling transfluid. Blitzwing bucks his hips slightly and manages to slide his spike between swollen valve lips. They both gasp.

Blitzwing’s lips move around Starscream’s digits, trying to ask a question. Starscream tugs on his jaw instead of letting him speak, watching with satisfaction as oral lubricant tracks down his chin.

“Don’t worry, Big Bot,” Starscream says scathingly, “I can handle what you’ve got. I had some time while you kept me waiting.”

Starscream lets his free servo drag indulgently from Blitzwing’s chin, over his neck, and down his ample chest. Blitzwing arches into the touch, more drool slipping down his face. He’s practically moaning for more without any words.

It’s a heady feeling.

Starscream grants him mercy as he finally wraps his servo around Blitzwing’s spike. Somehow, it’s always a thrill feeling the burning heat of it in his palm. The tips of his claws don’t touch as he tries to wrap them all the way around.

He gives Blitzwing’s slickened spike a few pumps, just to feel it twitch in his grip. Starscream can feel the near-painful clench of his calipers as he positions the head at his entrance.

Starscream moans, helm thrown back, as he sinks inch by inch onto Blitzwing’s length. His lubricant production peaks, trying to smooth the press of that huge spike inside him. Beneath him, Blitzwing makes some truly pathetic noises around the digits in his mouth.

“See?” Starscream asks, breathless. “I  _ told _ you I can handle what you’ve got. As if I haven’t before!”

Blitzwing’s engines rumble. The servos on Starscream’s hips tighten. He’ll have to buff out the dents later.

That’s all forgotten, though, as Blitzwing lifts Starscream off his lap for a scant few moments, then shoves him brutally back onto his spike.

_ “Oh!” _ Starscream says, probably too loud and optics too bright. Before he can recover, Blitzwing does it again.  _ And again. _

Starscream loses the edge he had gained, hardly even remembering he’s got his digits in Blitzwing’s mouth. It’s  _ exhilarating _ . Starscream lets go and Blitzwing does the work, driving into his slick valve as it clenches around his spike.

He screams as Blitzwing hits a particularly deep angle and it’s his undoing. Blitzwing growls and drives wildly into Starscream, hitting up against the seal of his gestation tank with each thrust.

Starscream overloads with a shout, one servo carving deep grooves into Blitzwing’s chest and the other slipping from his mouth. Blitzwing follows soon after, groaning as he fills Starscream’s valve to the brim with warm transfluid.

They both take a moment to vent, overheated frames cooling gradually as they calm down.

Starscream pats Blitzwing patronizingly on a crimson cheek. It leaves a smear of oral lubricant. “Well done, three-face. I might make a decent partner out of you yet.”

Blitzwing full-on slaps his servo away. Rather than stay red, his faceplates turn cool blue.

“You’ll make nothing of me but a fool. Tell me why I keep coming back, hm? You are always claiming to have the answers, O glorious  _ follower. _ ”

“Can it!” Starscream snaps. Abruptly, he climbs off of Blitzwing’s spike. The lubricant dripping from his abused valve is only a slightly better sensation than no longer being filled. “I’m a great lay and you know it.”

“I know that I can’t keep coming back to a sparkless traitor forever,” Blitzwing says, not so much angry as cool and factual. He unceremoniously un-subspaces a cloth to wipe himself down as his spike retreats back into its housing.

“Pah!” Starscream spits. Blitzwing re-subspaces the cloth. “As if I care. You’ll be back enough times to satisfy me, and that’s all I care about.”

A soft whirr and black faceplates stretch wide in a bleeding smile. “Haha! You?  _ Caring  _ about something! Now I know I’ve gone cuckoo.”

Starscream waves his servo. “Right, right. Your berthside manner is terrible, you know that?”

Blitzwing cackles. “What berth?”

Stone surrounds them on every side, no furniture to be seen. He’s got a point. And with it, he’s worn out his welcome.

“Just get out,” Starscream demands, waspish as he ever was.

“Getting!” Blitzwing calls as he takes off. His laugh fades quickly. Starscream is left with the unenviable task of cleaning himself up.  _ Ugh. _

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr @barbieprime! :o)


End file.
